These Forgotten Melodies
by toocoolforbeth
Summary: It's been years since Jace has opened the lid of the old piano. So much has happened, so much has changed. As he sits at the piano, he thinks about the three people that have come into his life, causing it to change so much. Sorry, I'm bad at summaries.


**Okay, so this is a little something I just thought up. Keep in mind that as I write this, it is 3:17 am, so it isn't the best, but I hope it isn't too horrible.**

**So basically, this is Jace in, say, twenty to twenty three years from CoG. **

**This is a one-shot, but I guess if I get enough good feedback, I can extend it.**

**Anyhow, enjoy.**

**DISCLAIMER: Nope, still not Cassie Clare. ... Well this is depressing.**

Jace sat down on the cracked, leather seat of the creaking piano stool. He brushed his hand across the lid of the old, forgotten instrument, watching as the dust pulled away from the shiny black wood and clumped in his hands. He sucked in a breath and blew, hard, sending whatever dust remained flying into the cold air of the Institutes dimly lit music room.

The room hadn't been used in years, forgotten in the same way you might forget an old friend. Entering it again was not dissimilar to meeting up with an old friend as well. He felt welcomed by the room; the doors opened wide and beckoned him in. He felt happy.

He had not meant to neglect the room. He had just been otherwise preoccupied, too caught up in the rush of his everyday life that it had slipped his mind. It was not that he hadn't wanted to play, but he just hadn't had time. Too busy doing other stuff, he guessed.

Now, sitting in the warm light of the old-fashioned lamp situated on the hood of the piano, he opened the lid, taking in the ivory and ebony keys that had spent so many years untouched. In the distance, he could hear the sounds of his children resonating through the halls of the institute, their voices loud and bubbly as they argued and laughed and teased each other. He could also hear the sounds of music, of low bass, fast drumming beats and guitar riffs, a style which was favoured by his eldest.

The boy would be sixteen in a week. Jace smiled to himself as he thought of his son, Adrian's quirky, excitable nature, and it occurred to him how different his boy was to him at that age. While Jace had been arrogant, sarcastic and egotistical, his green eyed offspring was different; forthcoming, defenceless and more humble. He lived without constantly guarding his thoughts and emotions. In fact, he seemed to just blurt out the first thing that came to his mind. Jace chuckled to himself as he reminisced on the hundreds of occasions were people (mainly Council officials) had walked off in a huff, offended by something the young boy had said. And Adrian would be left, scratching his fair head and feeling bemused, completely oblivious to what he may have said to insult them.

Jace could hear him now, calling out something to someone, his voice, tinged with humour, sounded through the halls. Somebody called back. Imogene. He would recognize her youthful, bubbling voice anywhere. She was his oldest daughter and Clary had talked, many times, of how she thought that it was possible the girl was more arrogant than he was. He smiled as he thought of how the girl reeked of confidence; it seemed to come off her in waves as she went through life, leaving those in her wake standing in awe.

_She doesn't have a reason not to. _He thought to himself.

It was true. She was beautiful. Her eyes were a stunning green, not unlike her mothers, and her silky, strawberry blonde hair fell down her back in waving ribbons that seemed to sparkle in the sun. She was curved (or as curved as a 15 year old could get) and Jace had a very strong feeling that, soon enough, he would have to start kicking the ass of whatever boys dared look at her the wrong way.

Jace snapped himself out of his reverie, looking down at the keyboard. He placed his fingers on the keys and began to play, hearing the soft tinkle of the first, and light chord echo through the beautiful old room. The notes resonated of the walls, which had been painted, years ago, by artists depicting images of saints strumming harps and violins, the beauty of their melodies enough to make even the angels weep.

Jace closed his eyes and let the music envelope him, covering him in a blanket deep smooth chords mixed with higher, staccato notes. His fingers sped up as he led up to a crescendo of fast, interchanging notes.

He finished the final bar, ending the tune softly. He was almost sad to hear it end. And, as it seemed, he wasn't the only one to feel that way. Behind him, somebody let out a soft sigh, and Jace spun around, surprised. There, standing close enough so that if he had lent back too far, he would have knocked his head on her shoulder was Mary, his youngest.

If Jace was being honest, Mary would have to be his favourite child. It wasn't that he didn't love all his children equally, he did and he would have done anything for any one of them. But there was something about Mary, a sort of thoughtfulness, if you will that the other two didn't have. She had only turned thirteen last month, but sometimes when he spoke to her, he felt as if he was speaking to someone much older. Someone who had done and seen much more than she had.

She was just as pretty as Imogene, with her red hair, the colour of a burning summer sunset that fell in big, wild curls down her back and over her shoulders. Along with her luminous gold eyes, so much like his own. They held meaningfulness in them, a deepness that Jace couldn't really explain.

"Hey Baby Girl," He said, and wrapped his hand around her thin, pale wrist, pulling her petite frame down beside him on the piano, "I didn't hear you come in."

"I heard the music from my room," She explained, her soft, musical voice echoing through the room. "I wanted to hear it more." He wrapped his right arm around her shoulders and she lay her head on his shoulder, sighing.

"Do you know what it's called?" He asked.

"Mmmm." She murmured in response. "Clair De Lune. It's beautiful."

"Yeah." He agreed, and they fell into silence. Using his left arm, he tinkered on the keys, playing random tunes, some Beethoven, some Baroque and watched as his daughter placed her slime, fair fingers on the keyboard, copying his chords exactly, playing along with him.

Jace wondered, not for the first time, about how intelligent his Mary actually was. She was so incredibly quiet most of the time. She rarely spoke, rarely tried to input anything into conversations. He knew that a lot of people outside the family thought it was because she was thick, or intimidated by the complexity of the talk. Jace, however, knew how very untrue that was. Mary was incredibly bright, probably brighter than he was, and it was obvious to see at times like these, as she mimicked Jace's skills on the instrument exactly, without one lesson.

He knew, of course, that the reason she didn't speak much was because she simply preferred to stay quiet. She just enjoyed listening, and she didn't need to actually say anything to feel part of it. He knew this because she had told him, a couple of years ago, when he'd asked her why she never spoke. Jace was the only one she _really_ spoke to. He had been worried at the time, that she was scared of something, rejection or what not, but he had not worried since. He understood what she meant.

And although she hadn't said it, he suspected that she secretly preferred her own company.

"Do you like it? Playing, I mean." He asked, noticing the way the left side of her mouth quirked up into a smile while she played.

"Yes," The young girl said, absent mindedly, "Very much."

They were silent for a few moments before Jace said;

"I can teach you to play, you know, if you ever wanted to learn."

The girls face lit up. "Really?"

"Yeah, I mean, it's never too late to learn."

She grinned, and he swore that that was the first time he'd seen her smile like that in years.

**Ta daaaa!**

**So what do you think? Love it? Hate it?**

**Let me know.**

**Review please! Every time you review, I will donate one pound of fairy floss (cotton candy. They call if fairy floss in Australia) to the UFHU (Universal Foundation of Homeless Unicorns.)**

**Love,  
>Beth.<strong>


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